Back Where We Begin
by Bubble Wrapped Kitty
Summary: A trip to visit their competitors for sectionals brings out a truth about one stuttering singer. Forced to confront the demons of her past, and her new friends learning them too, Tina must learn to appreciate what she has and where she started out.
1. Chapter 1

AN: A reply to fionacat36's challenge. My first time writing for Tina, and I've taken some artistic liberties with her to accomodate the storyline. This story runs cannon with the series up through "Ballads" except we're going to disregard the Artie/Tina stuff that took place in "Wheels." For the purpose of this fic, we're gonna get a little AU and say that Tina's stutter is real and nothing has happened between her and Artie. Hopefully you guys like it. I'll post up the next couple parts as soon as I get them finished.

Disclaimer: (since I always forget these.) I do not, to my sincerest misfortune, own Glee or anything related to its awesomeness. This time, I don't even really own this plot, since the ideas were all supplied by fionacat36. The only thing in my possession is the hope that this story turns out as good as it sounds in my head. *crosses fingers*

* * *

Why is it that whenever my life starts settling down and getting good, something has to come along and blow it up? I'd honestly thought that things might stay good for me for once. I mean, I've got glee club and friends and confidence, and for the most part I've been able to put the past behind me. I finally feel like a normal kid again, despite how not normal I am. And then in one sentence, Mr. Schuester kicks my legs out from under me.

"School for the Deaf in Dayton, and some place called Jane Addams Academy…"

Yeah, I got a little panicked at first, although I hid it really well as my friends were celebrating. I pretend to be just as excited and confident as them, even tossing in a statement about how great sectionals will be, while I was secretly trying not to pass out. Eventually though, when I was sitting alone at home, I realized there's no reason to freak out. So I'll just be careful to keep a good distance from the other teams and no will have to know anything more. Crisis averted, right?

Wrong.

Weeks later, after I've had the time to calm down completely and there's been enough other things going on to push my worries to the back of my mind, Mr. Schue drops the atomic bomb on my Hiroshima.

"Alright team, to cultivate some good sportsmanship, I've made plans for us to visit the other schools and we're going to rehearse together. You know, bounce ideas off each other, get a little constructive criticism, and maybe spark up some of that old competitive flair in you guys. So this Saturday we're going up to Jane Addams to…"

Should've known the good wouldn't last. I mean, it's not like I'm scared to go there or anything, and if it were under any other circumstances I would be excited. I'd really like to see some of the girls; I miss them and haven't talked to most of them in a while. The problem, you ask? Well none of my new friends know I spent nine months in a halfway house. Or more specifically, the _Jane Addams_ halfway house.

So now it's six in the morning on a Saturday and I'm sitting alone in my seat on the bus, leaning against the window with my headphones on and trying to keep myself from freaking. Thankfully because we had to leave so early in the morning to get all the way to Jane Addams, everyone is still pretty much asleep and keeping to themselves. Even Mr. Schue gave up on getting us pumped up after the first few miles, and now he and Ms. Pillsbury are talking to each other in low voices but it looks like they're both on the verge of dozing off.

My heartbeat seems to picking up as the miles roll under the bus. It's a pretty long ride to Jane Addams; I've been down it a couple times. I remember the ride from when my parents had moved us from Defiance to Lima, and I know it takes about three hours. I don't know if I want the trip to end or not, I can't decide whether the ride or that moment of truth will be worse.

The sky's starting to get bright when I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump. When I turn to look the gloved hand waves at me and then retreats over the back of the chair. Smiling, I pull my legs up onto the bench and sit on my heels so I can see into the space behind me. Artie's looking up at me from where his chair is parked in that open area set aside for him, grinning that typical Artie grin.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" he asks nervously after I've plucked my headphones from my ears. I shake my head and he lets out a relieved breath. "Oh good, I'm glad. It's just everyone else is asleep but I can't get to sleep in this chair."

"Oh r-right, sorry," I say and instantly I feel bad. I was so worried about my own problems I didn't even consider that my best friend is sitting back there by himself and probably bored out of his mind. Artie just shrugs and never stops smiling, and I marvel again at just how easily he takes everything. "So d-did you get to listen to that CD I l-l-lent you?"

"Yeah I listened to it last night," Artie says and I love the way his face suddenly brightens up. I know that most of the time his smile is only half-real, but when we start talking about music it becomes a real smile. It may have been the fact that we were outcasts that brought us together, but it was our love of music that made us friends. We spend a lot of time searching out new bands we've never heard of and trading mix CDs. "I liked it for the most part. That fourth track was a little strange, but the guitar solo on the seventh song… Wow!"

Artie gets me distracted with talking about the different songs on the CD and I don't even realize how far we've gone until suddenly the bus is stopping. The moment the brakes pull, all of the panic I've been avoiding comes flooding back into me. It must show on my face because Artie has that concerned little frown on that's so sweet and caring I want to break down crying.

"Tee, you alright?" he asks anxiously.

I force myself back into a calmer expression and smile at him. It's a good thing I've spent so long learning to hide my feelings because I've gotten pretty good at masking what's going on in my head. From everyone except him, unfortunately. "I'm f-f-fine," I say quickly, trying to act casual. "Just n-nervous about perf-f-forming, th-that's all." Inside I'm cursing the fact that my stupid stutter gets worse when I'm stressed; it's like a natural lie detector to the people who pay enough attention to notice. Like Artie.

"You'll do fine," he assures me and reaches over the seat again to squeeze my shoulder. Considering that the thing I'm most worried about is that my best friend is going to find out I'm not exactly the person he thinks he's befriended, the gesture doesn't help me much. I tilt my head forward a little so my hair falls in front of my face and take the second of cover to get my facial expression back under control. When I tuck my hair behind my ear again, I can tell in Artie's face that he knows something more is up, but being the guy he is he doesn't push it and just gives me an encouraging look.

I don't even listen to Mr. Schuester's pep talk he's giving us as I make a grand affair of getting my mp3 player tucked away safely into my bag. _Here goes…_ I can't help but feel grim, and a little nauseous, as I get off the bus behind Mercedes, trying not to listen to the comments she's making to Kurt about the academy girls. Mostly because they annoy me. Who is she to think she's knows what the people at Jane Addams are like? Sure, so some of them are not the nicest people in the world, but most of them are alright.

When everyone is loaded off the bus, (after a bit of a glitch with the wheelchair lift that leaves Artie stuck halfway between the bus and the ground for five minutes), we are finally heading into the old brick building. I keep my head down as I walk behind Artie's chair as usual, but it's okay because I already know what the building looks like. The old dirty brown brick walls, the windows that have been painted over so many times most of them don't open anymore. Inside, everything will be ordered and bland, with white-washed walls like college dormitory buildings.

"Wow, I'd hate to go to school here," Artie mutters, staring up at the building in awe and I can see he's also a little scared. "I'm gonna stick close to you, okay? I'd rather not cross paths with some juvie girl alone. They might decide I'm easy pickings."

"D-don't worry, they w-w-won't," I say without really thinking about it. Thankfully for once Artie doesn't read too much into it and just takes the words as a promise to keep an eye on him. I know it's true though, they wouldn't hurt him.

Mr. Schuester is leading us toward the auditorium, following the signs on the walls, and I'm careful to keep my head down as we pass the occasional person in the halls. All I can think is that maybe, if my luck finally holds out for me, the girls who I knew here will have all left as well. Most people don't stay here longer than a year, unless they cause a lot of trouble, and I left at the beginning of the summer.

We can hear singing when we get close to the auditorium and my heart starts pounding. _I can't do this, I can't do this…_ So much for all that confidence, because that's apparently gone out the window. The music though, it makes me feel stronger. It's that bold, powerhouse music that they always sing at Jane Addams, the sort that you can't pull off without putting all of your heart and your spirit into it. The kind I love most.

So when we step into the auditorium, I feel like I've gone back in time. Everything looks exactly the same, from the slightly tattered stage curtains to the sight of the girls on stage going through a number. I almost want to go up and join them. That stage is where I first really embraced my love of music, where I first felt the confidence of performing, and where I felt, for the first time, like I fit in somewhere. In a way, it was almost like coming home.

But there is part of me that still remembers where I really am; in a rival club's auditorium, with my new friends and my new team who have no idea I'd once belonged here. That happy feeling is gone instantly. Especially when I lay eyes on the one person I hadn't thought of when I'd been panicking about being found out.

The one who was up there leading her girls through the dances with that same fierce, proud energy she taught to every one of the students she led. The one who encouraged me to join her choir and taught me how powerful music can be. The one who had been like a big sister to me while I was here. And I realize that even if all of the other students I'd known are gone, there is still that one person who will always be here and who will most definitely recognize me.

Grace…

I am so screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Part two! Alright I also wanted to add really quickly that everything I'm putting in here about Jane Addams Academy is all just guesswork, (obviously since the episode doesn't premiere till tomorrow.) I chose Defiance, Ohio at random, because it was the next closest decent sized town to Lima. I do not know what the place would look like or how it would function, security and procedures-wise, because my knowledge of halfway houses is limited to wikipedia. If something is really off, I'm sorry. I want to have this whole story up before "Hairography" premieres tomorrow (so it doesn't ruin my visions for this story by showing me how wrong my assumptions are) and because of that I don't have the time to put much research into how halfway houses work. On that note... still hope you enjoy this!

* * *

Our actual performance was a bit of a blur for me. I was too busy being nervous to really let myself enjoy performing, not that I let it show. Like I've said, I've become a master at hiding things. I had hoped that maybe we would be performing second so after it was finished I might be able to high-tail it out before anyone recognized me, but I should have known better. Grace had offered, "guests first," and the next thing I knew I was up on the stage.

It felt like it had been forever since I'd been here, but it has really only been a few months. There's something comfortingly familiar in the place, except for the fact that I'm performing with an entirely different group. The stage lights make it practically impossible to see out into the audience, which thankfully stops me from looking for familiar faces. However it only makes it that much easier for them to see me.

As we're walking down off the stage, I keep my face down. I had met Grace's eye when we finished, and she'd just smiled and nodded. Maybe, just maybe…

"It's Ch-Ch-Chia!"

For a moment I forget everything else as I turn around to find the person who'd shouted. I know that voice, and that stupid nickname. I barely have time to get a look at the face before she throws herself at me, almost knocking me over as she hugs me. I can't stop myself from hugging her back eagerly.

When she finally lets me go, she steps back to take a look at me. She's let her hair grow out and it's pulled back into a braid, but other than that she's exactly like I remember her. "Eve," I say excitedly. We we're best friends when I was in Jane Addams, and she was the one I'd missed most after I'd left. "Oh m-m-my God."

"I'd say 'Oh my god,' I never thought I'd see you again after you left," Eve says. "This is so incredible. How have you been? What'd you go and change your streaks for? I liked the red." There's a hard edge to her voice, but I know she's just projecting. Eve is actually one of the sweetest, most loyal people I've ever known. She just acts tough; kinda like Mercedes.

This thought makes my stomach twist uncomfortably as I remember where I am. I look over my shoulder and see that all of the kids from glee, and even Mr. Schuester, are staring at us in surprise. Well more like shock, really. I feel nauseous for a second and I know I must look like a deer in the headlights.

"Um, Tina, do you want to introduce us to your friend?" Mr. Schue says, clearly trying to be the voice of reason in the middle of all the gaping students.

"Oh hey, I'm Eve," Eve says brightly, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "Tina's my best friend, we were roommates when she was here."

_Oh God…_ I close my eyes, not wanting to see the glee kids' faces as they exchange looks of confusion. I can only imagine what's going through their heads now. _Tina was here? She's a juvie girl… She's a criminal… We made friends with a felon…_

A hand touches my arm and I manage to look down. Artie's staring back up at me and I can't handle the look in his eyes: confusion, shock, sadness, and hurt. "Tee, what–?"

Brushing his hand away and shrugging off Eve's arm, I elbow my way through the group and run out of the auditorium. I can hear people yelling after me, but I tear down the familiar hallways without considering where I'm going. All I can think is that everything I'd been creating for myself over the last few months has just imploded. Why hadn't I just told them? But I already know the answer to that.

The guard sitting in her office by the front door must have recognized me as a visitor because she doesn't stop me as I run out of the doors. The school bus is still parked on the curb inside the gated fence but I make a hard right, almost slipping in the grass, and bolt around the side of the building. I know where I'm going before I've even really made the decision, and next thing I know I'm skidding to a stop underneath an enormous tree. Jumping up, I grab a hold of one of the branches and heave myself up. Several feet up, I settle myself into a natural hollow and curl myself up.

I'm shaking and it's not just because it's cold. I bury my face in my knees so I won't have to admit that I'm crying. I can't believe the mess I've gotten myself into. All I can think about is that look on Artie's face, like I'd betrayed him, and imagine that all of my other friends are probably thinking the same thing. None of them knew I went to a reform school. None of them knew I spent time in juvie. And none of them knew I'd been lying to them all this time.

I don't have to look up to know what the view looks like. I'd sat in this tree often enough on the free hours when they'd let us out to run. Eve and I used to sit up here because it offered a nice view of East Defiance down the hill, and we liked to look out at it and talk about what we'd do once we were out in the real world again. I realized that everything I had ever planned, all those ideas about starting over again at a new school and getting over everything from before Jane Addams, had just come toppling down on my head like a load of bricks. Shuddering, I tucked my face into my knees again.

I have no idea how long I've been sitting here, just that it's long enough for my sobs to have choked down. Now I'm mostly just shaking and feel really sick. I don't want to ride back to Lima with the glee kids. For a moment I consider walking into Defiance and catching a bus home, but my wallet is in my bag, which is currently hanging on the back of Artie's chair. I resign myself to having to face them for the trip whether I want to or not. Maybe they'll all be so scared or upset with me that they won't want to talk to me, and they'll leave me alone and not ask any questions. Oddly, this idea doesn't make me feel any better.

"You know, Chia, if you're gonna hide in a tree, it works better if the tree still has leaves on it. You're not exactly – _camouflaged_ up there."

I freeze at the voice but don't lift my head. Of course, it would have to be the last person I want to find me bawling my eyes out in a tree. Well maybe _next_ to last.

"Tee, are you going to come down? I really can't follow you up there and that sort of sees like an unfair advantage, don't you think?"

Oh great, there's the number one person I don't want to see me like this. "G-g-g-go aw-way," I say bitterly, embarrassed at how bad my stutter is giving me away. It's not hard to tell I'm upset when two words take two minutes to get out, not to mention that I'm shaking so bad I'm gripping the branch in front of me to not fall out and my throat is all thick so my voice is cracking too. Well, and then there's that whole business with running out of the school like I was being chased by the devil.

"Seriously, do you think anyone actually listens when people say that?" Eve asks. Her tone sounds annoyed but I know that's just how she covers for being concerned. "Now get your ass down from there or I'm coming up after you and dragging you down. And you know I can do it."

"W-why are you guys h-h-here?" I ask sullenly, not answering her.

"I thought that was obvious," Artie says in that flat tone of his. It's weird, because no one else seems to be able to tell, but I can always hear the emotions he tries to hide behind the monotone. Right now, he's scared. "We came to get you. We would have been here sooner but we had to argue your friend's case with the security lady."

"Grace had to step in and vouch for me," Eve explains. "All I had to tell her is that I knew this was where you'd be and she let me through. Wheelie boy here offered to be my guard, make sure I don't make a jail break."

Even though I'm trying very hard to act unaffected by them, I can't help a small smile as I imagine Artie trying to stop Eve running off. It's a pretty amusing idea.

"Come down, Tee," Artie says gently. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

I don't turn to look at them, but I climb down out of the tree, standing against the trunk and still facing away from them. Both of them seem to sense how I'm feeling because neither of them approaches me. "I'm f-f-fine," I say finally.

Eve snorts. "I would not consider the way you're acting right now very f-f-fine," she says. I hear Artie make an indignant noise at the way she mocks my stutter but she ignores him. "What, are you ashamed of being friends with a girl like me or something?"

Before I realize it, I spin around on my heel. "No!" I say loudly, horrified at the idea. "N-no, Eve, how c-c-could you s-say that?"

"Well that's sort of how it's coming across," Eve says, her tone indifferent but her eyes hurt. "You were perfectly f-f-fine until I introduce myself as your friend and then you bolt the hell out. How am I suppose to take that? Don't want your new friends to know you actually made friends in juvie?"

I can't answer, my tears bubbling up in my chest so I can hardly breathe, let alone speak, but Artie covers it for me. "None of us even knew she _went_ to juvie," he explains in a low voice. "She, uh, she never told us."

Eve looks up at me in shock, her mouth actually open. "Wait, that's what this is about?" she asks faintly. "You're flipping out because you didn't tell them you went here? They don't know you were locked up?"

"Well we do now," Artie says in an undertone. Eve kicks his wheel without looking at him and he makes another noise of annoyance.

"Why not tell them? It's not like you did anything wrong," Eve continues. Artie looks like he's about to make another comment, glances up at Eve's scowl, and then shakes his head and bites his lip. I know what he's thinking; to end up in juvie I obviously must have done _something_ wrong.

"Y-you kn-now how other p-p-people are, E," I say desperately. I feel like I'm being teamed up on and I need to know someone understands what I was thinking. Artie won't understand, he never could, but Eve's been through this before. "Th-they judge. Assume th-things."

Artie looks confused but Eve nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, okay, I get that," she agrees. After a glance at Artie she continues, "So the people who aren't like us discriminate. They assume because we made a mistake we must be bad people. They find out that just because you were one of the ones who got caught you must be the worst of them, and they push you away because of it." Artie's eyes widen and I know she only elaborated to key him in on what I meant. I'm grateful, because I don't want to have to say it. "But you know what I say, Chia? I say to hell with them. If these McKinley geeks – no offense, Wheelie – don't want to give you a chance to explain yourself, then who needs them?"

"Tina." Artie's voice is so soft I almost don't want to look down at him, but I can't help myself. I both love and hate just how sweet and understanding his face can be. "You know I'm not going to judge you, I never have. I just want to know. You don't even have to tell me now, if you don't want. I'll wait, and I'll make sure the others leave you alone if that's what you want. But I just – we all just want to understand."

"Tell him, Chia," Eve says in a level voice. Her expression is firm but her eyes are gentle and supportive. "He's obviously a good friend, and must think he's your knight by the way he charged – er, _rolled_ – after you." Artie blushed but kept my gaze. "You owe at least him that much." I am shaking again and Eve reaches out to take my hand, pulling me closer to them. "Don't worry, I'm here for support."

"And so am I," Artie adds, holding out one of his hands too. I manage a faint smile as I take his hand, and then nod.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Oh my, this plotline has gotten so out of the universe of reality I can't believe it. This isn't exactly what I'd planned out when I first wrote it, but it just sort of poured out of me. On that note, would like to remind people that even though there's not really anything contradicting it in the cannon so far, I would still consider this AU, lol. I decided to do this as a flashback too, because I thought it would take too long to let st-st-stuttering T-T-Tina tell it. Sorry if you were expecting that. I really need to stop rambling on so much in these author notes... Just a final thanks to the massive numbers of people who've reviewed/alerted this. Really, an astounding number of people. And now, it's flashback time!

Warning: references to drug use and trading, nothing crazy psychotic but they are heavily referenced.

* * *

_May - 2006_

I'm humming along as I work to remember the lyrics to a new song I heard on the radio this morning as I walk home from school, my hands tucked deep into my pockets as I try not to let myself get angry. Music is the only thing that keeps me calm, and I know once I get home I won't be able to listen to any because my parents think that anything with more passion and edge than Chopin or Debussy is "corrupting the morals of society."

I fume and aim a kick at a mailbox post as I walk past. My parents. They're the reason I'm mad in the first place. I'm sick of hearing them make promises and then never follow through. I worked so hard on my project, slaving away late into the night to make it perfect because they'd sworn they would be there this time, and then what happened? The same thing that always happens. They flake. I'm sure when I get home it'll be to an empty house and a note about some important business function they just couldn't miss. Same as usual.

For a moment I consider the idea of just leaving home, but then I see a cardboard box with a ragged blanket in it in an alleyway and reason that there's probably no way a thirteen-year-old girl could survive for very long out on her own.

"Hey Tina!"

I stop and turn back to the voice, and see a girl I know from school running up the street toward me. She's a year older than me, but she does a good job of popping up and being there when I need someone. She usually asks some sort of favor afterward, but I don't really mind because she pays attention to me and it's nice to have someone care even if she is a mooch.

"Oh hey Liz," I reply dimly. Liz skids to a stop next to me, looking as rough and rugged as usual (she doesn't come from as wealthy of a family as me), and smiles.

"You look sad," she says. "Come on, I have something that will cheer you up. My brother's running an errand and he wants me to help out. You can come along. It'll be fun."

"What kind of errand?" I ask nervously.

"It's just a business thing, nothing big," Liz assures me. "You know, delivering products. I've tagged along before, it's cool."

I consider saying no; I've never actually met her brother but I've seen him once and he looks even worse off than Liz. Then I think of my parents, completely forgetting about me today for their work, again, and I know how much they would hate the idea of me going out with lower-class people like Liz and her brother. And I suddenly feel rebellious and really, really reckless.

"Yeah, okay, sounds fun," I agree. Liz grins, seizes my arm, and pulls me off with her. We go down a block and Liz's brother is sitting behind the wheel of a car that almost looks like it's about fall apart.

"Jay, Tina's coming with," Liz announces and then pushes me into the back seat ahead of her. Jay eyes me in the rearview mirror for a moment and then nods, grinning in a way that makes me a little uncomfortable.

"Okay, you'll do good," he says and then before I can ask any more questions he starts up the car. We drive into the seedier side of Cleveland and the longer the car ride goes the more my recklessness filters out of me. The only thing keeping me from panicking is that Liz is totally at ease, rambling on about things that I don't understand at a thousand words a minute and practically exploding with excitement. You'd think we were on our way to a Hollywood party the way she's going on. I build up a little storage pile of adrenaline just from listening to her and I think that maybe she's right and this really will be fun.

Jay parks the car on a dingy street in front of a pretty sad looking bakery. Then he gets into a box on the floor of his passenger seat and hands a package wrapped in brown paper back to Liz. She takes it and then looks at me. "You wanna go first?"

"What are we doing?" I ask, staring at the brown paper in confusion.

"I told you, delivering," she says. "It's easy. All you gotta do is take the package up to the person, give it to them, take the money they give you, and then come back. Go on, it's really fun."

This doesn't sound like fun to me, but I don't tell her that. I accept the package dubiously, noticing that its sort of squishy in my hands like a bag of sand, and then look around. "Who do I take it to?"

"You go around that corner up there," Jay says, pointing around the edge of the building next to the bakery. "He'll be on the side street. Really easy to spot, big white guy in a black jacket. Wearing a bright yellow hat on sideways."

I have no idea how he can know those sort of things but I don't want to question him. Liz gives me one more encouraging "go on" and then I climb cautiously out of the car. "Oh, be sure to tuck it under your jacket," Liz hisses before I close the door. Now I'm feeling really dubious but it feels like it's too late to turn back. Especially after I notice that Jay has a handgun tucked in between his seat and the gearshift dock. I don't even want to imagine why on earth he has that, or how little prompting it might take him to use it. Stowing the brown paper under my jacket, and zipping it halfway just to be careful, I walk across the street and around the corner of the buildings.

There is the man with the yellow hat, just like Jay said. I try not to look too eager as I walk up to him briskly. "Whaddya want, kid?" he asks when he sees me.

I can't think of what to say, nor can I clear my throat enough to say anything anyway, so I simply pull the package from my jacket and hand it out to him. His eyes widen and he snatches it quickly. With a little pocketknife he whips out, he cuts a notch in the package and dumps something into his palm. I barely have the time to see that it's some sort of white powder before he presses it into my face.

I inhale in alarm and instantly suck up a bunch of the powder. The world starts spinning and I cough, trying not to choke on the burning stuff in my nose and mouth. The man is laughing, although I can't see it because my eyes are watering, and the next moment I feel my wrist being grabbed. I try to scream but only end up coughing more. Something is pushed into my hand and I manage to clear my vision enough to realize its money.

Suddenly all hell really breaks loose. There's a shout from the end of the alley we're in. The guy next to me cusses and releases me, running off. I'm left clutching the money and whatever else he had in his hand at the moment. A gunshot goes off and I can't help it; I panic. Screaming, I turn and run back in the direction of Jay's car.

It's gone, racing off down the street way ahead of me and giving me absolutely no hope of catching up. Figures...

"Hey you, stop!" The yell startles me and I take off sprinting again, afraid that it's whoever was shooting. I don't know what I've gotten myself into, but I can take a guess and it's not a good thing. My heart racing so fast I think it might explode, I keep running as I hear pounding footsteps behind me. I can't think straight, my brain is really fuzzy and nothing much is making sense to me. All I know is if these people I've gotten myself mixed up with are coming after me, I really do not want them to catch me.

A hand grabs my arm and it's like time speeds up. I don't process the thought of moving or screaming or reacting in anyway, and by the time I do I've already done all three. I'd shrieked as loudly as I could, spun on my heel and taken a swing at the person who'd grabbed me with the hand holding the money. Now as I stand and process what's just happened, I realize what else I was holding beside the money. The pocketknife.

The police officer is grimacing as he tugs the little blade out of his arm. It's not big enough to kill him, I know that, but I see the red gleam on the knife and the whole reality comes crashing down on me. I faint.

The next day I'm sitting in the police station while my parents talk to the officers. I'm glad to know the one I stabbed is fine, but that's about the only good thing I'm hearing. The officers are going on about assisting in the trade of illegal substances and evading arrest and assaulting an officer and doing drugs since they found traces of the powder in my blood test. They never caught Jay or Liz or the guy with the yellow hat, so everything is on me. Whenever they've tried to ask me questions about what's happened, I can't manage to talk. For some reason whenever I open my mouth all I can do is stutter and I haven't been able to form a real sentence yet, or even a full word, really.

The officer I stabbed seems to be taking my side, surprisingly, and saying that I must have been forced into it and I just panicked. I wish I could tell him that's true but can't get the words to travel from my brain and out my mouth without being chopped into a series of repetitive little noises, so I just nod. But then my parents have to put in there two cents: tell the detectives I've always been a problem, am always rebelling against them and trying to cause trouble. They truly believe I meant to do every bit of it. I mean, I did mean to do something to annoy them. I never expected it to wind up being this.

Nothing gets better from there. The detective or lawyer or someone apparently important-ish, steps in and says that at thirteen years old I should be smart enough to know whether what I'm doing is right or wrong. That I'm old enough to be fully aware of the consequences of my actions.

How was I supposed to know that a girl I go to school with is a drug runner? It's not like my parents ever sat me down and told me 'if anyone who looks like they are on the verge of being hobos ever trying to coerce you into delivering a brown paper package for them, just say no.' My parents never bothered with those sorts of lessons and they only tell you so much at school.

This argument seems to win everyone over and next thing I know I'm getting hit with eighteen months in juvie. That gets shortened for good behavior to only a year, and then they ship me over to spend another year at Jane Addams Academy before they can release me into society again. And that's where I meet my roommate, Eve Jackson, and the music teacher, Grace Hitchins, and my life finally starts looking good again.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Hopefully I didn't throw you guys off too badly with that last chapter, it might have seemed a little out-there (but is loosely based on true events, I've studied criminal justice and that sort of thing does sometimes happen). This chapter is a lot less depressing, I promise! Only one more after this one!

Also, a special thank you to PiperPaigePhoebe01 for adding this story to her C2. It makes me feel really special, so special that I decided to make the end of this story even sweeter and fluffier than I had originally planned it to be. If you guys like the end of the next chapter, you'll have to thank her. :) As always... Enjoy!

* * *

I'm bawling like a baby again. Some point in the story I realized I couldn't stand up any longer and I sat down heavily. Eve and Artie never let go of my hands and I'm grateful. It keeps me grounded, reminding me that I'm here and not back in that place again. No one talks when I'm finished and they wait for me to calm down. When I look up at them Eve looks like she's torn between a desire to commit murder and wanting to cry. Artie looks so stunned I'm afraid he might need medical attention.

"She didn't speak when she got here," Eve says quietly. She's looking at me but I know she's talking to Artie. "It's took a full week to get her to talk at all, and when she finally did her stutter was so bad it must have taken five minutes for her to say her name. It wasn't until Grace got her to join the choir that she finally relaxed and we could understand her when she talked. For some reason, her stuttering never affected her singing."

"She h-h-heard me singing to myself in the y-yard," I say quietly. "It makes me f-feel better, c-calms me down. That's when she t-t-t-told me I needed to join choir."

Artie still hasn't said anything, staring at me so wide eyed that behind his glasses they are magnified to almost cartoon proportions. Then suddenly he lifts his free hand to rub under his eyes, (I ignored the fact that they were so watery for the sake of his pride – men and crying, you know), and then looks back down at me. "That's it?"

This is so far away from the answer I'm expecting that I stare back at him just as badly. "W-w-w-what?"

Artie gives a breathy laugh. "The way you were making it sound, I thought maybe you'd gone on a shooting spree or built a chain of nuclear warheads in your garage," he says in awe. Eve snorts in laughter.

I cannot even describe the wave of relief that's sweeping over me. In my mind, my crime, while not really my fault, has always seemed like this huge thing. And Artie, my best friend who's always abided by the rules, thinks it's nothing. Before I can really process, I get up on my knees and pull him into a tighter hug than I've ever given anyone before. I can tell he's shocked because he stiffens up, but he wraps one arm around me and pats my back awkwardly with the other hand.

When I finally let him go, I sit back on my heels and laugh. "Nuclear w-warhead?" I ask him in amusement. "I'm n-no good at chemistry, you know that. You do most of my homework."

"Wow, I think that's the least stuttering I've ever heard," Eve says, sounding impressed. "You're making progress." I'm laughing when I tug her into a hug too.

"Th-thank you, both of you," I say, taking one of their hands each again and squeezing them. "You two are the g-greatest best friends ever."

"I know," they say at the same time, and when they look at each other in surprise I can't help but burst into laughter.

"I don't know about you two, but I should probably get back inside soon," Eve says when she's done laughing. "Grace has been watching us through the window this whole time and now that you're smiling again they'll expect us inside. If I don't go soon they'll think we're planning a runner."

"I'm not sure runner is the appropriate term in my case," Artie says.

Eve rolls her eyes. "I meant a runner for me," she says. "You guys are visitors, you can leave whenever you damn well please."

"Let's go in," I say, standing up and dusting the dried grass off my knees. I take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears from my cheeks, and then nod to them both.

"I might need a hand, Tee," Artie says and for the first time it really occurs to me that his chair is out on the grass. Like yards away from the sidewalk out in the grass. I know how hard it is for him to move his chair on something so soft and I glance up at Eve.

"Don't look at me," Eve says, guessing what I'm thinking, "I didn't help him. He was so hell bent on getting out here he did it on his own. Gotta give him this, Shorty's got some killer arms; kept up with me the whole way, even on the grass."

Artie's blushing again and he gives me that shy smile that makes my chest flutter in a funny sort of way. I'm pretty sure I know what it means, but my day has been so crazy I don't even want to think about deciphering any more emotions. I just step forward and help him to turn his chair back towards the sidewalk, and then take my place behind his chair.

"We're going to get a lot of weird looks when we go back in," Eve says and I laugh.

"You m-mean _I'm_ going t-t-to get looks," I say and I realize it's true. My glee friends, Mr. Schue, Grace, they're all going to want to know what happened and why I freaked out. It's not a discussion I'm looking forward to.

"No, I mean _we_," Eve says. "Rolly-poly and I got into a bit of a shouting match in front of the security office, I'm sure our voices carried back to the auditorium." I'm so surprised I nearly stop walking. Eve shouting, sure that I can see, but Artie? "Speaking of which," Eve says and looks down at Artie, "sorry about the 'broken cracker boy' comment."

"Eve!" I say indignantly but Artie just shrugs.

"What?" Eve asks, unconcernedly. "I was upset and he was being annoying. Casanova here chased me out of the auditorium when I ran after you, and kept telling me that no one was going after his best friend without him, wheelchairs be damned. I kept pointing out that I was the one who knew where you would go and had known you the longest but I think the wheelchair affects his hearing because he didn't listen to a word I said."

"I listened," Artie says, "I just made the executive decision to ignore and disregard everything you said."

"H-how did you know I'd b-be here?" I ask Eve curiously.

Eve looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? You _always_ came here when you were upset. Like remember when that girl made fun of your stutter? You came out here and sang to yourself until they finally found you."

"Oh r-r-right, Renee," I say, grimacing. "You b-broke her nose."

"And got my time extended, yeah," Eve agrees. She shakes her head when I give her an apologetic look. "Don't even say sorry again, Chia, or I'll break your nose. You know me, I like it in here. Nobody here knows what they'd do without me." I laugh, but the sad truth is she isn't exactly lying; she really has been in here for a while, more than a year before I showed up, and I know she's not all that eager to get out. She always does some little minor thing to get an extra couple months tacked on, but never anything bad enough to get her sent back to juvie.

"I have a question," Artie says, tilting his head back to look up at Eve.

"What the hell is this, a classroom?" Eve asks, laughing. "If you got a question then just ask the damn thing, don't raise your hand."

Artie is trying not to blush again. "I was just wondering what's with the 'Chia' nickname?"

Eve and I exchange amused smiles. "It's l-like those commercials for the p-plant things," I explain because Eve doesn't look like she's going to bother.

"Chia pets?" Artie asks. Eve and I both nod. "I still don't get the connection."

"Ch-ch-ch-chia," Eve says in a sing-song voice. "It's because of her stutter."

Artie looks scandalized. "You broke the nose of another girl for making fun of her stutter," he points out.

Eve just shrugs. "The other girl wasn't her best friend," she says simply. "Best friends have special privileges."

"You don't let me make fun of your stutter," Artie says and I can tell he's trying to pout. Unsuccessfully, but he's trying.

"Th-that's because you're too nice a guy," I say. "You wouldn't even if I l-let you." Artie seems to think that over for a minute and then nods in agreement.

"That is pretty creative," he admits.

"Well thank you, Professor X, your approval means so much to me," Eve says dryly.

Artie's eyes go wide. "You are into X-men?"

"Oh please, Wheelie Boy, I am way more than just into them," Eve says and I roll my eyes. I had learned the hard way after making a Spiderman joke that you don't get her started on comic books unless you've got the time to spare. "I am the resident expert on everything graphic novel, and especially on Marvel."

"Only because n-no one else here has actually r-r-read them," I mutter but they both ignore me as they launch into debating about different comic book characters and I think I've only ever even heard of half of them, and most of those just in passing. They keep this up all the way back into the building, where Grace comes out of the security office to join us.

Leaving the other two to their conversation, Grace stops to pull me into a hug. "It's good to see you again, honey," she says. It feels good to be in her hug again; she's sort of like an older sister I never had. She doesn't say anything more than that, just keeps her arm around my shoulder as we follow Eve and Artie back to the auditorium.

There's music from inside and when we get in we can see that both choirs are singing together. It's surprising how well they are getting along, since when we showed up the Jane Addams girls were frowning at the McKinley kids and the McKinley kids were terrified of the Jane Addams girls. Now they are all intermingled throughout the stage and front rows of the auditorium, singing together.

The music breaks when we are spotted in the doorway and instantly there's a little group running at us. "Tina!" yell Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel, and Brittany, all of them running up to practically dog pile on me. Finn is following just behind them and right behind him are Quinn and Puck and Santana. Mr. Schuester is hanging back with Ms. Pillsbury, but he smiles at me and I can see the relief in his face.

"Do not worry me like that," Kurt chides. "This stress will counteract my nightly facial treatments and if I–"

"–and you had us all wiggin' out, girl! It was like–"

"–all of us expressed a great deal of fear over you, and we are all so incredibly pleased to see you return–"

"Alright, alright!" Grace shouts and everyone looks up from the giant group hug I'm being crushed in. "Let's get back to this rehearsal. We've still got a lot of work to do. It looks like the New Directions might just have to stay for lunch as well." To my surprise, there aren't any complaints about this. A few people even look excited. I mean, I know that the McKinley kids and the Jane Addams girls are both great, I love them both; I just didn't expect them to understand that so quickly, let alone take to each other so eagerly.

"Are you feeling like you missed something too?" Eve asks in a whisper. Artie and I both nod. "Good, glad I'm not alone."

"C'mon girl," Mercedes says and gestures for me to follow her as the McKinley group filters back down to the auditorium seats. I sit on the end of the row, so I can sit next to Artie, and the rest of the kids create a bit of a half-circle around me. None of them bother me about what happened, even though I can see they are all dying to know, but I feel like they are trying to keep me fenced in and protected. In a weird sort of way, it's touching.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Awh, final part! Wow I cannot believe I actually made my deadline to get this written before the episode premiered. It was originally only going to be a one-shot and then when it exploded into this I didn't think I'd actually make it. So forgive the spelling and grammar and formatting and etc errors, because this was written very quickly, mostly in little ten minute breaks between work shifts and in that precious hour I have in the evenings before bed to get all my stuff done on the computer. Really really appreciate all your support, and thanks again to fionacat36 for her awesome prompt, this really was an excellent plot twist I could not have come up with on my own. So finally, in conclusion...

* * *

We're having lunch in the auditorium before we have to go home, and as I look around I'm surprised again at the fact that the two groups are actually interspersed. I'm sitting near the back of the auditorium with Eve and Artie, and I think they are having a compare and contrast argument about Batman and Iron Man but I can't really follow it.

"Tina." I look up and Grace is standing behind me. "Do you want to take a walk with me?"

_Yes and no_. I nod and stand up, finally getting Artie and Eve's attention. "I'll b-be back," I say and they both nod, smile at me, and then instantly launch back into their conversation. I follow Grace out into the hall and she turns to face me.

"How are you holding up?" she asks and I can see the worry in her face.

"B-better now," I assure her. I can tell she wants to ask but won't, so I just tell her everything. She already knows about how I ended up here, but I tell her about how I started a new life for myself at McKinley, about how I joined glee club and found a place where I fit in, about making new friends who accepted me even with my unusual fashion sense and stutter, and then about how I never had the chance to tell them about my time in Jane Addams before coming here today. Grace never interrupts but at the end she takes my chin in her hand and tilts it up.

"I am so proud of you, Tina," she says and I can't help but feel teary eyed again. Grace is the closest thing I've had to a parent-like figure since I was old enough to have an opinion that clashed with my real parents', and it's good to finally feel appreciated. "I was so worried about you when you came here, you were so scared and quiet, but you really have become a beautiful young woman. It's good to see you feeling so strong and confident in yourself."

"I h-haven't been very conf-f-fident today," I point out glumly.

Grace shakes her head. "When I met you, you were so scared to let people get close to you that you didn't associate with hardly anyone. I still wasn't sure that after you left here you would be able to open up the way you did here at your new school. But when I saw you in there with your friends, all of those kids you've let get close enough to care about you as much as they do, I knew that you'd be alright."

There's singing coming from the auditorium again and I have to smile. Grace does as well. "You've got a good group of friends in there," she says. "It's good to see such an odd collection of kids working together like they do. Kind of like watching all of my girls coming together, despite all their backgrounds. I can see that you'll be safe and cared for with them, and that makes me happier than I can ever tell you. Especially watching the way that boy in the wheelchair was so quick to come after you. No one could stop him; he was out of the door before anyone could grab him. I can tell, he'll take good care of you."

"W-we take care of each other," I say.

"That's good to hear," Grace says with a knowing smile that makes me think she knows more than I do. That's pretty probable actually; she's been working with reform girls for years, and she is really good about being able to see the truth behind even the best lies. It's a big part in how she can connect so well with people, especially with girls like the ones here, who are used to just shutting people out. "Hang onto him, he's a good friend." She pauses for a second and then continues, "Your speaking has gotten so much better than it was when you left. Who knows, maybe in another year or so it'll be gone."

I glance in the doorway of the auditorium, my eyes landing on familiar faces, and then I shrug. "I d-d-don't mind it so much," I admit. "My friends love me even w-with it, so it doesn't really matter to me anymore."

Grace smiles and draws me into another hug and I drink in the feeling. "That's my girl," she murmurs and I can tell she's getting emotional because her voice is thick. It doesn't show on her face when we pull apart though, and we're both smiling when we go back into the noisy auditorium.

* * * * *

We go through five more rounds of erupting into random songs before Mr. Schuester finally puts his foot down and says we really do have to leave Jane Addams now. There was a lot of hugging and laughing and "We'll see you at sectionals!" Grace gives me her phone numbers and tells me to call her if I ever need a big sister's advice, and then tells me that if I send letters to her office she will make sure that Eve gets them. My two best friends keep up their comic discussions all the way until the moment Artie is tucked away into the bus and then promise they will pick it up again at sectionals. Eve and I try very hard not to cry as we say goodbye.

By the time everyone is loaded into the bus, we're all exhausted again. It's only about four in the afternoon but the early morning and the active day has worn on everybody and once the bus is on the road everyone starts dozing. Quinn has fallen asleep with her head on Finn's shoulder and the quarterback is nodding off against the window. Brittany, Santana, Matt, and Mike are having a whispered conversation that involves a lot of giggling. Rachel has headphones on and is mouthing to herself (that girl really doesn't ever stop working), and Puck is staring out the window in a distracted sort of way. Kurt and Mercedes, sitting in the row in front of me, are arguing quietly across the aisle way about clothes, as usual.

Once again I'm sitting up on my heels, my chin resting on the back of my seat so I can talk to Artie. "You're friend is pretty cool," he says with a laugh. "Even if she is rather – crass."

"Y-yeah, that sounds like Eve," I agree.

"What did – do you know why she's, you know, in there?" Artie asks curiously. "If you don't think she'll mind you telling me."

"She w-won't," I say. "She'd have told you herself if you'd asked. She used to hotwire c-cars, take them for rides." I smile, remembering all the exotic cars she'd told me about driving around Ohio. She had seen the error of her ways but that didn't mean she didn't still love talking about the cars.

"Wow," Artie says, shaking his head. "That would be kind of fun." I raise an eyebrow. "Driving the cars around, I mean. Not stealing them." I try not to look too sad when I realize that Artie's never going to get to drive a car. "I see what you're thinking, and don't," Artie says and I try, and fail, to look innocent. For some reason my masks never really do work on him. "Don't worry about it, I don't really mind not having to stress about a driver's test or pay my insurance or remember to fill the tank. I've got a set of wheels that are much lower maintenance."

"Artie, you're amazing," I say and it takes me a moment to realize I said the whole sentence without stuttering. Sure, it was only three words, but it's an achievement. Artie notices too, but he doesn't show it except to smile. Maybe he thinks if he says anything it will jinx it. I've never pegged him for being superstitious but then again he tends to be a surprise around every corner. I don't really care if it's a jinx or not, my stutter suddenly doesn't seem quite as important. "W-want to hear the new s-s-songs I have on here?" I ask, holding up my mp3 player.

"Do you have to ask?" Artie replies and holds out one hand for the headphone. I give one to him, slip the other into my ear, and then turn on the player. We talk about the music for a couple minutes until we're both yawning, and then we just settle in and listen.

After putting the headphone in his ear Artie had set one of his hands on the back of my chair, and I stare at it for a while until, for some inexplicable reason, I put my own hand on it. Artie's eyes widen and he blushes, but a few minutes later he flips his hand over and wraps his fingers around my hand. And I realize something sitting there on the bus, watched over by Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury, surrounded by my new friends, and listening to music and holding hands with my best friend; just like walking into that auditorium in Jane Addams, this sort of feels like home too.


End file.
